


The Only Rules I Follow Are Yours

by CorvusCloudburst (Cloudburst_Ink)



Series: Hunter's Moon 500 (Smut Challenge Version) [15]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Boot Worship, Dom Isabelle Lightwood, Dom/sub, F/M, Light foot fetish, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Sub Jace Wayland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27290446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudburst_Ink/pseuds/CorvusCloudburst
Summary: (HM500 Prompt: Forgot)Jace forgot to clean his favorite pair of Izzy's boots this morning--but she knows just how he can make it up to her.Read this story on Cloudburst.Ink! 🖤
Relationships: Isabelle Lightwood/Jace Wayland
Series: Hunter's Moon 500 (Smut Challenge Version) [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881772
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22
Collections: Hunter's Moon 500 Prompts





	The Only Rules I Follow Are Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaCroixWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaCroixWitch/gifts).



> You can blame LaCroixWitch for this. This is what happens when we travel together.
> 
> You can also blame [AriaLerendeair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Lerendeair) and [thatnerdemilyj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatnerdemilyj) for feeding into this nonsense and encouraging me.

“So close,” Izzy breathes. The armchair in the corner of Jace’s bedroom makes an excellent throne for her. She leans back onto it as if she belongs there, her legs spread, like she was born to rule the insolvent kingdom of his heart.

She is fully clothed; Jace is not. She prefers him this way, in nothing but the thin fabric of his pajama pants, the visible tent of his erection brushing ever so slightly against the freshly-scrubbed sole of her boot.

Jace rubs the final bit of polish across the seam near her knee. The boots are perfect. Izzy is perfect. No matter how many times he fails, no matter how many times he’s bad, she always finds a way for him to be good again.

“Remember the rules,” Izzy reminds him firmly.

Jace closes his eyes and nods, stilling his hips where he had been mindlessly rubbing himself against her leather-clad foot. “No coming until you say I can.”

He’ll listen. No matter what. She’s the _only_ one who gets that from him.

“Do you _want_ to come?”

Jace’s pride urges him to talk back, shielding him behind a facade of false cockiness, deflections, and innuendos. He swallows them back.

“Yes,” he admits brokenly.

Izzy nods. “Do you _deserve_ to come?” she asks. The toe of her boot presses against him, the friction just shy of too much. He shakes with the effort not to thrust upward and ruin everything.

He wants to be good for her. He _needs_ to be. He needs to know he _can_ be.

“No,” Jace finally mourns. “No, I don’t deserve it. I haven’t been good for you. I forgot to clean them this morning. I—”

“Shhh,” Izzy cuts him off, firmly but gently. “No whining, pet. How many hours have you been on your knees scrubbing out the stains?”

Jace blinks up at her, the fog clouding his mind lifting slightly. “It’s been… hours?”

Izzy nods, her expression soft. “You’ve been so good for me. You made up for your forgetfulness tenfold, don’t you think? They look good as new.” She circles her toes against his cock and he cries out, only barely pulling himself back from his pleasure.

A flicker of movement below Jace’s field of vision draws his attention downward, where he sees Izzy’s pretty, manicured fingers dipping below the waistband of her leather pants. He groans, need simmering beneath his skin, teetering on the edge as he watches her readjust her position to stroke herself more comfortably.

“Please,” he begs breathlessly. “Let me help you.”

Izzy smirks. “You are helping me, pet. Looking so pretty for me, grinding against my boot.”

Jace stifles another moan. His hips rock mindlessly. He’s _so close_. “Please,” he begs.

“I want to watch you come,” Izzy demands. “Want to see you ride out your pleasure against those boots you just cleaned. Get them all messy again, and then clean them with your tongue.”

Jace has never been so eager to follow the rules.


End file.
